


there's an end and a beginning

by thequeenofokay



Series: ghost verse [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofokay/pseuds/thequeenofokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death is quiet. It doesn’t last. There’s a tug -- sharp and painful, and then he’s back.</p><p>Skye sits on a chair in the centre of the room. She’s in a papery hospital gown, wires and drips trailing off her, monitors surrounding her. She’s staring impassively ahead.</p><p>// skye is turned into hydra's pet. a recently deceased ward can't and won't leave her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's an end and a beginning

**Author's Note:**

> \+ yep, ghostskye gets an even more horrible sequel in the form of ghost ward.
> 
> \+ also this fic definitely has some trigger warnings. like really it's not fun, and contains: suicide, torture, violence and brainwashing. i think that's it?
> 
> \+ title from "new york" by snow patrol.

Death is quiet. It is the first moment of peace he's felt in a very long time.

It doesn't last.

There's a tug - sharp and painful, like tiny hooks digging into his body and pulling.

And then he's back.

It's still white, but not the pure, soft white like before.

This is harsh. This is fluorescent lights and polished surfaces that smell of disinfectant and clear plastic boxes filled with shining medical equipment.

Skye sits on a chair in the centre of the room. She's in a papery hospital gown, wires and drips trailing off her, monitors surrounding her. She's staring impassively ahead.

He knows where he is. He knows the setup and the style. And he's under no doubt that somewhere in the building, Garrett and Raina are watching her.

Like she's a lab rat.

Ward wants to be _sick_.

She shouldn't be here. She doesn't deserve this. He can't think of what they're going to do to her. He doesn't want to.

He doesn't want to imagine her being poked and prodded and brainwashed and turned into a little Hydra soldier. Into Garrett's _pet_.

Into him.

But the difference was _he deserved it_. He was repaying Garrett. But Skye owes Garrett nothing. She shouldn't have to be here.

But.

But there's nothing he can do.

The doors open, and Garrett steps through. He's got a couple of soldiers with him. Their hands are too close to the guns at their sides, fingers twitching when Skye looks up.

They think she's dangerous.

'Skye,' Garrett says. 'Raina says she's finished her final adjustments. And you know what that means?'

Skye nods. 'I'm ready,' she says. Her voice is cold, dead, and Grant feels himself shiver.

Garrett smiles, slow and hungry. 'That's what I was hoping you'd say,' he says.

'What do you need me to do?' she asks.

Garrett's smile grows, and it's disgusting. It's disgusting and Grant wants to get Skye away from it. He _needs_ to get her away from him.

'It's nothing too complicated,' Garrett says. 'An easy kill, just to break you in.'

Skye looks up. She nods slowly. 'Wouldn't I be more use on something more challenging?' she asks.

Garrett laughs. 'As much as I love the enthusiasm, sweetheart,' he says, 'this is just until we've figured out your… programming.'

She nods (and it isn't enthusiasm in her eyes, but dead compliance). She stands up slowly, and waits for orders.

'The scientists will be along in a minute to unplug you from all this,' Garrett says. 'And then we've got some shiny new gear for you.'

She nods. Waits.

She doesn't look at Grant once. He wishes she would.

Garrett leaves, but the soldiers stay, and a team of scientists join them. They pull wires and drips from her skin, and she doesn't flinch.

Grant wishes she would. He wishes she would feel _something_.

She doesn't flinch when they strip off her gown and redress her in a black uniform, just silently holds up her arms to assist them.

(He looks away.)

They give her weapons - tuck knives into her belt and slide guns into holsters - and she gives them a slightly confused look. 'I'm not sure I need these,' she says, but they don't reply.

They lead her away, and he follows. They take her out to a helicopter, where Garrett and Raina are waiting for her.

'Here's your target,' Garrett tells her, handing her a file. 'You'll have backup with you, and they've got Flowers on speed dial in case anything goes wrong.'

'There won't be any issues,' Raina interjects. 'My programming is sound.'

Skye looks at the file, and Grant is sure she hasn't really been taking in what they're saying. 'Thank you,' she says, climbing up and sitting herself down in the back. She straps herself in, and stares at the paper on her knees.

He sits across from her, but she doesn't look at him for the whole journey. Or maybe, doesn't see him. He's not sure, but he knows he has to _make_ her, just like he could see her when she was… gone.

He knows it probably won't work. He knows he could only see her because he loved her _so hard_ , because he wouldn't ever, ever let her go.

He also knows that she doesn't love him. She can't, not when she's been wiped clean by Raina, not when she's just a shell of who she used to be.

It doesn't matter, anyway, because she probably didn't love him before that either.

But he has to make her see him. He has to. It's the only way he'll be able to do _anything_ to help her.

They touch down in Portland. She takes a minute, standing by the helicopter and getting her bearings.

'I don't need you with me,' she says to the guards. They look like they're going to argue, but she tilts her head to the side, and repeats, harder, 'I don't need you.'

They let her go.

She walks down the road, and Grant follows.

He should say something. He should maybe even try to stop her. If she does this, he's sure there will be no going back, that she'll lose something irreplaceable.

But he doesn't.

Because he's a coward. A stupid, selfish coward, and he can't stand the possibility that she won't see him, won't even hear him.

So he says nothing.

She stops outside a townhouse. She waits for a moment, like she's confirming to herself that this is the right place, and then goes in.

The door opens with a click, as though it wasn't even locked.

She stops in the hall, considering the weapons they've strapped to her, but seems to decide against them.

She moves down towards the living room, silent.

There's a woman in there. A woman Grant thinks he might recognise from a picture Coulson had. She's in running gear, the symbol of an orchestra stitched into her top.

She panics when she sees Skye. She yells, but Skye doesn't seem to notice. She just moves forward in slow, measured steps until she has the woman backed into a corner.

Grant knows he should say something.

He should try and stop her.

He doesn't.

Not until Skye's hand is around the woman's throat, and he can feel pain flowing through her, see the life leaving her eyes.

'Skye,' he says, quieter than he meant. 'Skye, please, stop.'

He thinks she twitches, almost glances round, but it's too late. It doesn't matter. The woman slides down the wall, into a heap on the floor, and Skye steps back.

She turns round. In the dark, empty house with the dead woman on the floor, she turns round at looks at him.

Just for a second.

And just for a second, Grant could swear the whole world stops turning.

'Leave me alone,' she says.

 _She sees him_. She sees him, and he's sure that it's the single most important thing to happen to him.

And then she's gone, out the house and back up the road.

The waiting soldiers hurry her into the helicopter. One pushes her into a seat and straps her in, and she doesn't resist. 'Shield's on their way,' he says.

(Grant swears, as the helicopter takes them away from the city and back to Garrett's base, that he can feel them. There's a sharp jut of pain that digs in between his ribs, and it's faint but there, a sudden hit of loss.

He knows, instinctively he knows, that they've found the body.)

.

.

.

Garrett congratulates her on such a successful mission while Raina runs tests, checking that everything had gone smoothly.

When they ask her if she'd felt anything go wrong, she shakes her head.

Grant can't help a feeling horrid, treacherous hope that maybe there is still a splinter of care for him left within her. She didn't give him up. She didn't tell them that she could see him.

They reward her with a room of her own. It's small, dark and bare, with just a bed and a box for storage.

But at least she is unwatched.

She sits on the bed and stares forwards.

He leans against the wall. He has to focus to do it, but it's a little thing that makes him feel a little more… alive.

'I said leave me alone.' She tilts her head, staring at him.

He smiles, small and sad. 'Skye,' he whispers. 'I can't.'

'How do you know my name?' she asks. 'How do you know who I am?'

'I'll never forget,' he says. 'Whatever they try to turn you into. I'll never forget who you are.'

He wants to be able to touch her, to hold her and convince her that she is _good_ and wonderful and not this dead monster they've made of her.

He can't.

'I don't want you here,' she spits. There's anger in her voice and he _loves_ it. He can feel it burning in her, and it's a sudden rush of hope.

'I'm staying,' he says. 'Always, Skye, I'll always be here.'

'No,' she shouts. 'Leave me alone!'

She grabs a pillow and throws it at the walls by where he stand, but he doesn't flinch.

The door opens from the outside, and a guard steps inside.

'Is everything okay?' he asks.

Skye yells in frustration and snaps his neck in one clean movement.

(And Grant wonders if maybe she is totally lost. And then hates himself for it.)

.

.

.

They send her on harder missions.

She kills mercilessly.

Raina had somehow unlocked something inside her, something dark and powerful, and now she's… monstrous.

She can kill with a swipe of her hand.

He tries to talk her down, every single time, and she ignores him every time.

Once or twice, he has to warn her of attackers she doesn't see.

That makes her  _angry_. She tells him she knew they were there, that he has no right to be trying to protect her.

But he'll never stop, in the hopes that it will make up for the times he didn't before.

.

.

.

'If you don't leave, I'll tell Raina,' Skye says. They're alone in the lab for Skye's checks. 'Then she'll _make_ you go away.'

He smiles, sadly. 'She can't,' he says. 'I'm sorry.'

'She will,' Skye says. 'You'll see.' On cue, Raina enters.

'How are you feeling, Skye?' she asks, setting to work plugging Skye into the machines surrounding them.

'I think there's something wrong,' she says. 'I keep seeing someone.'

'Oh?' Raina raises an eyebrow. 'Who?'

'I don't know,' she says. 'A man.'

'Do you know his name?' Raina asks.

'Ward,' Skye says. 'His name is Grant Ward.'

Raina stops. 'That can't be right,' she says. 'There must be a fault with the programme. You don't know him.'

'No,' Skye agrees. 'I don't. But I can see him. He won't leave me alone.' She hesitates, and then asks, 'Who is he?'

'He loved you,' Raina says. He doesn't want to think about how she knows that. He doesn't want to think about Raina fishing about in Skye's brain, about her seeing the confession he made with his last breath. 'And he died because of it.'

'He died because he loved me?' Skye looks up, a hint of childish curiosity in her face.

'Yes,' Raina says. 'And it made him _weak_.'

'He died for me.' This time, it's a statement, not a question.

'Yes.' Raina pushes Skye back in the chair, fixing wires to her temples. 'But I can try and make him go away, if you'd like.'

Skye nods, and waits while Raina adjusts the machine.

She frowns. 'There's no fault that I can find,' she says. She folds her arms, obviously displeased at being unable to solve a problem.

'You can't make him go away?' Skye asks.

'Just ignore him,' Raina says. 'He'll fade away eventually.'

She has Skye taken back to her room.

'What did she mean?' Skye asks him (and it jars him when she does, because she's speaking calmly, directly to him). 'What did she mean when she said you loved me?'

'Just that I… do. Love you,' he says.

She frowns. 'I don't understand. It sounds horrible. It made you die for someone.'

'It's not a weakness,' he says. 'Don't listen to Raina.'

'Raina doesn't lie,' she hisses. 'You'll really fade, won't you?' she asks.

'No,' he says, and it's the only thing he's certain of.

'I hope you do.'

.

.

.

When they move base to the Cybertek facility, they take Skye with them. She's their front line soldier when their old Shield team attacks.

The look on May's face when she walks into the control room and finds Skye waiting for her is… unforgettable.

'Skye,' she says, lowering her gun (that's her first mistake). 'Skye, but you're… you died.'

She frowns. 'I didn't _die_ ,' she says. 'Raina says I was asleep.'

Grant can see realisation in May's eyes. 'They didn't… no. Skye. What have they done to you?' She takes a step closer (second mistake). 'How could they have brought you back?'

Skye's frown deepens. 'Shut up,' she says. 'They didn't bring me back. I wasn't _dead_.' Her lips draw back into a smile, or maybe a sneer. 'The only one that died was Ward.'

He sees May swallow and grief flicker through her eyes. He feels his stomach drop, and realises they don't know. They don't know the terrible traitor he is.

He died a hero to them.

He feels sick at the thought of them mourning him, when he doesn't even begin to deserve it.

If they knew who he really was, they'd _want_ him dead.

'Skye,' May says. 'Please. Come with me, and we'll get you fixed.' (Mistake three.)

'I'm not _broken_!' Skye yells.

' _Skye_.' May's pleading, and it's disconcerting at best. 'Please, this isn't you.'

'Yes,' Skye hisses. 'It is.' She swipes her hand. May is tossed against the wall, and Grant can hear bones cracking.

Skye stands in the middle of the room. She stands and looks at what she's done.

.

.

.

After that, Grant thinks he sees fissures appearing. Little tiny fractures in her programming.

She talks to him more. She gets angry more often. She fidgets during Raina's checks.

Or maybe he's imagining things. Maybe he's giving himself hope where there is none.

She's curled on her side in her bed, and he thinks she's asleep.

He envies her a little bit, for that. He used to hate sleeping. It was when everything he'd done caught up with him, when the nightmares came.

Now, he longs for it.

'Are you real?' she asks, suddenly, breaking through the darkness, and he jumps.

'What?'

'Are you real?' she repeats. 'Or am I imagining you?'

'No,' he says. 'I'm real. I'm sure I'm real.'

'Why do you stay, then?' she asks. 'If I'm not imagining you, can't you leave?'

He hasn't tried. He hasn't tried, like he knows she did when it was her that was the ghost, but he knows he can't. 'No,' he says. 'And I wouldn't if I could.'

'Why can't you go?' She turns over slightly, so that her eyes are fixed right on him.

'I think...' he says, and he remembers what she'd told him before, when it was him holding her down, preventing her from moving on. 'I think you're keeping me here. I think you need me.'

She lets out a little laugh. 'That's silly,' she says, and closes her eyes.

.

.

.

They order her to torture a trainee scientist who had attended the Academy - barely more than a girl - and Skye hesitates.

She does it. She holds her hand to the girl's throat and pulls the air from her lungs.

But she lets her die to quickly.

Grant has seen her spill guts on the road. He's seen her bleed them out slowly, so that it takes hours for them to finally slip away.

It's been a long time since she did something as simple and painless as asphyxiation.

And for a second, he thinks the old Skye might break through.

'There was no point in keep her around,' Skye says. 'She'd have screamed.' She shrugs. 'I can't stand screaming.'

She stays with Raina for longer than usual at her check up. He might have imagined the pain in her eyes when she's done, but when he asks her if she's okay she just looks confused.

'Why wouldn't I be?' she asks.

'I thought...' he begins, and sighs. 'I thought you might have been remembering.'

She laughs, and it's not nice, it makes his insides turn. 'I'm not whoever had this body before, Ward,' she says. 'I never will be. She's dead.'

'I know,' he says. 'It's my fault.'

She tilts her head to the side. 'Why do you say that?' she asks.

'I should have been there,' he says. 'The first time you died. I should have protected you. I'm so _sorry_.'

'Oh,' she says. She sighs. 'I'm glad I'm not her.'

'Why?' he asks.

'Because it sounds so exhausting,' she says. 'Caring so much. I don't know how you cope.'

'I didn't care,' he says, 'for a long time. And that was worse.'

She shakes her head. 'I don't believe you.'

.

.

.

They're on a bridge. They're on a bridge with the bodies of her enemies at her feet.

There's blood running down the gutter.

They're two hundred feet up at least, and the wind is tugging at her hair, blowing it seawards when she leans out over to look down.

'I'm sore,' she says. She looks over at him.

The thought hits him, and it's terrible, pressing down on him.

But he knows he has to try. He's not going to be able to live with himself either way, so he has to try.

'Skye,' he says. He stands beside her, reaches for her arms before he remembers he can't. 'Skye...' The words feel so heavy in his mouth, choking him, and he's not sure he can get it out. 'Skye, you could… you could make it stop.'

She frowns. 'How?'

He closes his eyes for a second, trying to steady himself. He tries to tell himself that this is the right thing. That he's freeing her. 'You just have to jump.'

She wraps her arms around herself, trying to protect herself against the cold. 'You mean die,' she says, and her voice is dead as ever.

He nods. He can't lie to her or try and trick her. 'Yes.'

She looks back out towards the sea. 'Raina said you loved me,' she says.

'I do,' he says. 'I still do.'

She nods. 'Okay,' she says. She climbs up and sits on the railing, balancing.

The protective instinct is almost overwhelming, and he wants to pull her back. But he couldn't, anyway, so it doesn't matter.

'Do you promise it won't hurt any more if I do this?' she asks.

'Yes,' he says. 'It will all be okay. I promise.'

'And...' She hesitates, and he thinks he sees a flicker of the old Skye, fighting to get through the impenetrable layers of programming and brainwashing. 'Do you promise you'll be there?'

'God, Skye,' he says. He thinks he might be crying. 'Always. I promise, I promise I will _never_ leave you. I will always, always be there, Skye.'

She nods again. 'Good.'

Her hands let go, her feet push off the rails.

She falls.

.

.

.

.

.

(The end, for the second time.)

.

.

.

.

.

He's waiting for her. He feels numb and sore, so sore, and the world is blurring around him.

'Grant,' she says. She slips her hand into his.

'You're cold,' he says. He touches her cheek. 'You're so cold.'

She smiles, reassuringly. 'It's okay,' she says. 'So are you. I think this is just how it works.'

'I'm sorry,' he says. 'I'm so sorry, for what I did.'

'Hey.' She shakes her head. 'It's okay. We're okay.' She rests her hand on his shoulder and smiles.

He's hit with an emotion he hardly recognises, it's so old and dusty and underused. Happiness. He's happy.

He kisses her, softly, and runs his hands through her hair, because she's _there_ , she's there and he can _touch_ her.

She's still smiling when she draws away, and it's so good it makes him ache.

'I missed you,' he says.

'Yeah,' she says. 'I missed me too. And I think I missed you, too. It's hard to tell.'

'I never left you,' he says. 'I promise, I never left you.'

She nods. 'I know. You were always there.' She frowns slightly, her hand firmly on his chest like she needs to steady herself. 'I know. Thank you.'

'I love you,' he says. 'I love you, and I'd never leave you. WHatever happens.'

'I know.' She looks like she might cry, and he's not sure if it's because she's happy or sad. 'I know. I love you too.' She laughs, and he smiles, really, properly smiles.

He feels so light. So content. 'I love you,' he repeats, because he _can_. Because she's here and he can tell her and god, it feels good.

She leans her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him, and they stand there. Quiet. _Content_.

'We should go,' she says eventually, looking up at him.

He nods. She takes his hand again.

And they leave.

.

.

.

.

.

(Really, truly the end.)


End file.
